RMS Brittanic
by dancingdreamers
Summary: 1921- Brittany and San are both aboard the RMS Titanic, Santana in 3rd class, Brittany in 1st. What will happen when the 2 become best friends, but society tries to pull them apart. That, and their ship sinking. NOT really based on the movie Titanic.
1. The Third Class Dreamer

**Hey readers! The first chapter is a little short, just a background chapter and their first meet, chapters will get longer! I will NOT update until there are 5+ reviews, i need to know if this is worth continuing!**

**The year is 1912- the year of the Titanic! **

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><p>Her elbows on the side rail of the ship, Santana looked up to spy the seagulls flying over head, one carrying the prize of a fish in it's beak. The 3rd class Latina smiled, breathing in the fresh salty air provided by the open space and vast blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Santana couldn't get enough of the briny air, so clean compared to the smog and pollution from the factory district in Liverpool. Bringing her eyes straight ahead, seeing nothing but blue, she couldn't suppress the excited shiver that ran up her body. The nothingness around her was a new beginning, a new life for her and her mother and father and little sister Josephina. The city of Liverpool was cruel to the Latino family, unwilling to accept them, their Spanish accents and tanned skin only alienating them further. She remembered playing in the dirty streets as a child, remembering envying the little British girls with their soft blonde hair, a far cry from Santana's black waves. She'd always wanted one of their baby blue silk dresses and ruffled socks. It never got better, and it killed her to watch her little sister look at those girls the same way, wanting what they had. Pushing the memories from her mind, she focused on the new life she'd have. Her father had told her that they would be accepted in their new home, a novelty for Santana, acceptance. Her head was filled with big dreams for her family as they boarded the ship earlier that morning, her brown eyes big as she attempted to soak up everything around her. After their family was settled in their small room, Santana vanished and ended up on the deck, where she stood now, staring at everything around her, and at the same time, nothing. Because what she was seeing was only in her head for now. New York City. Where she could get an education, society be damned. Santana wanted an education. She didn't want to be stuck at home with a baby on her hip by 19. She was already 17. She hadn't lived yet, but she was sure as hell going to if she could help it.<p>

Her thoughts were interrupted when something collided hard with her small frame, sending her to the floor. Stunned, Santana sat up, fully prepared to give the person a piece of her mind when she closed her mouth. Her offender, who was now also on the ground, was just a girl, no older than she. What stunned Santana was that she was no 3rd class traveller like herself, she had to be from first class. The Latina found it hard not to stare at her light colored dress, the embroidered hem, her light colored flat shoes and lace stockings. "Sorry" The girl said, causing Santana to look up, instantly lost in the deep blue eyes that gazed back at her, pale skin framed by blonde locks, partly held back by a bejeweled comb. Santana thought she had never seen anything so beautiful then the comb peeking out of that girls hair. Brilliant gems, golden teeth, glinting in the sunlight. She felt her fingers tingling, wanting so much to hold that comb in her own hand, slide it into her own hair.  
>"Brittany! You alright?" A voice said, and both girls looked up. The blonde smiled, the brunette gaped. A group of boys, Santana's class, no doubt, stood over them. Some appeared to be their age, a few younger. Santana remained stunned. These boys calling the girl by her first name? They knew her? Her mind reeled. Brittany just stood up, brushing herself off. "Yeah, I'm fine." She said, reaching down and pulling Santana up. "Look I'm really sor-" "Now Brittany's it!" Brittany stumbled when one of the boys tagged her, all of them running off. "hey!" She yelled in protest, but her eyes were gleeful. "Sorry..." The blonde trailed off, clearly searching for the name. "Santana." The Latina said softly. "Right. Santana. Sorry Santana! Well I've gotta go!" She waved, then was off after the boys. Santana turned, watching her go, amazed. "Bye, Brittany" She whispered. Her forehead wrinkled a little, processing what she'd just witnessed. A first class dame playing tag or something with a bunch of poor boys. It made Santana's head spin. She wouldn't be surprised if the girl was engaged already and going behind her mother's back by being on the lowest deck and associating herself with those boys. It made Santana smile. "Wild"She whispered to herself, before turning back toward the sea, letting her imagination temporarily overpower the memory of the blonde girl darting around the low deck in her games.<p>

**Reviews and con-crit are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Not Like the Other Dames PART1

**PART 1 of Chapter 2**

**I'm hoping to have part2 up later tonight!**

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><p>With the group of boys hot on the heels of her boots, Brittany wove around the barrels and groups of people speckling the lower deck. She heard their threatening cries of tagging her, but she ignored it, pushing herself to run faster, away from them. She was determined not to give them the opportunity to drop remarks about first class girls. "Them first class dames can't run to save themselves!" The memory of the snide remark burned in Brittany's mind. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps and a chunk of blonde hair had fallen loose and hung in her face, but she ran. Brittany ran.<br>When Brittany was sure her lungs would just about burst into flames, she heard a boy somewhere behind call out "Olly Olly Oxen Free!" in a labored voice. The sound was sweet to Brittany's ears, her mouth pulling up into a smile as she fell on a pile of potato sacks, taking deep breaths as the boys gradually flopped next to her.  
>"What was that you said about first class girls?" Brittany asked when she caught her breath. The boys howled with laughter. A smaller boy turned toward who seemed to be the leader of the pack and laughed. "give it up boy o'. She out ran us with space to spare." The tall boy laughed, pushing the younger into the sack, before turning to Brittany. "i've got to give it you dolly, you can run like the best of them. how can ya' breathe though?" He asked, and several boys turned to Brittany, anxious to the mysterious girl's answer. "Corsets" She replied with a smile. When several of them looked confused, she laughed, standing. "well boys, it has been my honor to play tag with you this fine afternoon, but I must be returning to the first deck before my mother comes looking" She said, faking a British accent, standing up straight before she and the boys fell out laughing. "Seriously, if I'm not back soon she'll be suspicious!" Brittany told them. "Will you be back 'round tomorrow?" One of them wondered. The blonde shrugged, "sure, if I can spare some time. I'll come looking." And with that, she was off, jogging and weaving through the crowds up to the top deck. Stopping when she reached the top of the stairs, her pale hands came up to brush the hair from her face, and she reached back to adjust the comb. When her fingers met nothing, she worked them through her hair, becoming frantic. It was gone, the comb was gone.<p>

Ten minutes later, Brittany slipped through the doorway of the suite, eyes down, hair still hanging loose. "There you are!" Her mother said. "Where've you gone Brittany, I was just about to have Gladice pour tea without you!" Her shining blue eyes fell on the group of women gathered around the table in the sitting room she'd walked into. She felt like scoffing. _Her mother was hosting her own private tea party, instead of going down to the dining hall for afternoon tea? _That was ridiculous by Brittany, but she said nothing, smiling taking the seat next to her mother. "I just thought I'd take a walk around the deck, it's so nice up here. We'll be on this ship for a few more days, why not admire it." She said softly, smiling gently, delicately, as if she was breakable. The women around the small table nodded. "How nice" they remarked. "This time of day is lovely". Of course, Brittany agreed with everything they said, often bringing her hand up quickly to tuck her hair behind her ear, then again everytime it fell loose. She stole sideways glances at her mother, trying to gage whether the older woman had noticed the comb absent from her daughters curls. If she had noticed, she certainly hadn't shown it.

Nearly about to excuse herself from the circle of gossipy women, Brittany was pulled back into the conversation-much to her chagrin, when Lady Sylvester piped up, asking. "Brittany, have your parents found a man yet? You've been 18 for almost four months now, isn't that correct?" Brittany wanted to roll her eyes at the sourpuss of a woman, but she gave a slight nod. "You are quite right Lady Sylvester, my birthday was in January. But no, my parents have not found a man, not just yet." Of course, the woman scoffed, forcing Brittany to press her painted lips into a thin line to hold in the words she wanted to throw at the woman. Or maybe spit at her, like she saw the boys do. The thought of spitting at Lady Sylvester only made Brittany grit her teeth harder, this time to suppress the giggles bubbling in her throat. "I-I'm sure Lady Pierce and her husband will soon find a dashing young man for Brittany any day now." Said Lady Pilsbury in a soft, mouse-like voice. Brittany smiled at the woman, nodding her approval. She like Lady Pilsbury. She wasn't snotty in the least, unlike Lady Sylvester. Breaking glance from the kind woman, Brittany stole a look at her mother, who had surprisingly kept quiet during the brief topic of Brittany's romantic endeavours. It surprised Brittany, but she kept silent. It almost excited her. Maybe her mother hadn't had any luck finding someone for her. Maybe she never would. Brittany didn't want a man. If one came along, she'd give him a chance, but the carefree dame was happy being on her own, still being young, reveling the fleeting moments of youth, for there weren't many left.


End file.
